On the Death of Raven's Mother (Monday, 15 September 2014)

I do not know if I remember her fondly or not.

I only remember that when she held my life in her hands she didn't take it.

I was a very young 23 when we first met.

I do not recall if I saw her on my first visit or not, but by then I was already trapped by her daughters lies.

"How old do you think she is?"

"... sixteen?"

"Yeah right"

Every time I visited, I cleaned the living room, so I would have a place to sleep

Raven was atypical, on mood stabilizers, claimed to self medicate on mj, and would often scream at and hit her mother especially if she threatened to have me put away. .. but for some reason I was never in fear...

Did I know that Raven's Mother was only using me because that was the last hold she had?
Did I feel then (as i do now) that I deserved to have my life destroyed?

I cannot even go to the funeral because there is no good way for me to know about it.

Even now raven holds my life in her hands.

And all I want is for my mother, father, wife and daughter to pay our respects to someone that was morally obligated to destroy me... and didn't.